


I forgave him for his fall

by sarahcakes613



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Family Secrets, Inspired by Music, Sort of a 5+1 but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-09 22:22:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6925960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahcakes613/pseuds/sarahcakes613
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Myrcella has sort of always known the truth of her paternity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I forgave him for his fall

Myrcella is 7 when she first comes upon Uncle Jaime and her mother huddled close together, his good arm around her in a tight embrace while he lays fevered kisses all over her face. She is crying. Tommen has followed a kitten into a tree and fallen out. He’s broken two ribs and had to stay in hospital for three days to monitor a concussion, and Myrcella can remember the fear etched in Cersei’s face. Robert rages through the building, all bluster and stormy waves breaking in the face of implacable doctors who cannot tell him when his golden boy will be better. Uncle Jaime is the calm eye of the hurricane to Robert’s thunder. Myrcella remembers him swooping her up in one arm and slipping her candied figs when her mother isn’t looking.

Myrcella is 12 at a Baratheon family reunion. She and Tommen are shining like gold coins in a coal mine, surrounded by a sea of black hair. Steffon has been embraced by his cousins, his uncles, his grandparents, but Cassana purses her lips when Myrcella awkwardly curtsies, when Tommen lisps his greetings to her. Everyone oohs and ahhs at how Steffon is growing into a replica of his uncle Renly, but they are silent when they meet Myrcella and Tommen.

Myrcella is just a child when she first learns about the kings and queens of old, the lineage of the royal Targaryens. She is in high school when she learns about the science behind their madness, what happens when brothers marry sisters. It is not the Gods who toss a coin, she learns, but genetics. They learn about blood typing and are given the task of mapping their own family. Robert is O positive, Myrcella and her mother are both AB negative. She has watched as Tommen grows into a miniature version of their uncle Jaime, and she decides not to ask what his blood type is.

She understands her mother’s reluctance to admit the truth, given the history of Westeros, the idea of incest still brings with it a hint of foreign invasions and insanity. The tree of who knows and does not know the truth is as convoluted as the truth itself. She wonders if Jaime knew then, if Jaime knows now. Sometimes when she is feeling particularly bold, she thinks she ought to confront her mother, but she has yet to make that jump from theory to reality. 

Myrcella is 20 when Robert dies, his heart finally giving in to a life of loving food and drink too much, exercise and moderation too little. She stands by his graveside with her brothers on either side. She can see beneath her mother’s lace veil; Cersei’s eyes are bone dry. It is later, when her father’s attorney brings them all together for the reading of the will, that she learns the truth she has always known. It turns out that Robert has also always known, and Cersei’s grip on Myrcella’s hand tightens as the lawyer, Eddard Stark, reads the words aloud, the skin on Myrcella’s fingers turning white from the strength of her mother’s fury. Eddard flinches under Cersei’s steely gaze as he reads Robert’s words into reality. _To my natural born son Steffon Baratheon, I leave two thirds of my estate. The remaining third is to be placed in two trusts, to be given to Myrcella Baratheon and Tommen Baratheon when they reach the age of 30, though they are mine in name only. To my wife Cersei, I leave nothing but the dowry she brought into our marriage. Let her use it to build the Targaryen life she has always wanted with her brother._

Myrcella is 29 and finally leaving her family home to live alone for the first time. Her uncle Jaime has helped her move in to her apartment, taken her out for her first drink at her new neighbourhood pub, tucked some cash into her utensil drawer when he thinks she isn’t looking. She is sitting cross-legged on her bed, facing her mirror and plucking at her guitar. He comes into the bedroom and sits next to her. She watches him watch her in the mirror, and she thinks maybe he had figured out, maybe he had always known. If so, he has never said. She lays the guitar down and tilts her head so it is on his shoulder. He tilts his to lean gently against hers in response, and they sit there in silence, father and daughter.

**Author's Note:**

> This was set in motion by the BEAUTIFUL song My Old Man by Anika Moa. My original idea was to make Myrcella a folk singer and she would be writing this song but then it really didn't work and my brain was like, no no, do this instead. Title is a lyric from the song.  
> The song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jvLkR64z-_I


End file.
